


All That Glitters Isn't Gold

by jumpstarts



Category: DBSK | Tohoshinki | TVfXQ | TVXQ
Genre: Alternate Universe, M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-04-16
Updated: 2019-02-06
Packaged: 2019-04-23 18:27:45
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 9,871
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14338440
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jumpstarts/pseuds/jumpstarts
Summary: (Sometimes, it's something better.) Shim Changmin, the youngest COO of Shim Corporations, fell in love with a part-time bar singer.





	1. .01

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Soulmateshinki](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Soulmateshinki/gifts).



> FINALLY. this is the homin chaebol au inspired by a tweet by soulmateshinki @ twitter, who has the best prompts for AUs and i'm basically triggered every time i see them. this actually started off as a one-shot, but due to my inability to keep the story from spiralling out of control, i've decided to separate it into two parts because i'm easily overwhelmed. the next part will probably be posted somewhere around 2037 or if i get threatened enough to finish it, whichever happens first. (≖ᴗ≖✿)

 

.

 

The only reason Changmin found himself in the shady-looking shithole was because Kyuhyun texted the address and told him to be there. Apparently, there’s something important to discuss that couldn’t be said in the more reputable places they frequented. Sounded like a steaming pile of bullshit, but he’s bored and there’s nothing better to do after his meeting with their Chinese sub-contractors ran late. It’s a good enough excuse for a change of scenery and Changmin ordered whiskey from a bartender who looked too young to be working the counter. His eyes were drawn to the empty stage at the other side, a lone chair underneath the spotlight the only indication that the bar provided some kind of entertainment. Changmin could see members of a band setting up in the background, silhouettes moving restlessly in the half-dark.

When a guy stepped onto the stage and gave a cheerful, if slightly nervous and static-riddled, greeting to his meagre audience, Changmin didn’t pay much attention. He’s too preoccupied with texting death threats to Kyuhyun for standing him up.

He paused, however, at the first strain of music.

Changmin’s heard better – from actual artists, with years of experience and accolades, to legitimate bar singers crooning about heartbreaks in brittle, cigarette-stained voices – and the man onstage was mediocre at best. He’d chosen a ballad, something obscure Changmin didn’t recognise, but his voice carried through the cramped, shadowed space like liquid sunshine. Warm and sincere and intimate, making up for his lack of finesse. His hair was too long, brushing broad shoulders, and he’s dressed like he just spent five bucks at the local thrift store for a threadbare shirt and the least flattering pair of jeans to have ever existed. Changmin’s offended just looking at them, but the stranger swayed his hips languidly as he clung to the microphone stand and the combination proved to be very distracting.

The phone buzzed in his hand.

Changmin’s too busy staring to care, mouth dry and heart trying to crawl its way up his throat.

At the end of the song, there’s a smattering of applause and the singer hopped off the stage with a large, pleased grin. It’s Changmin’s luck that he headed straight for the bar afterwards and he wondered if life was throwing him a bone.

Changmin pulled himself into a straighter, sharper line. Wore the smirk Kyuhyun called his ‘ _pornstar come hither, like you’re undressing someone with your eyes and your mouth just kinda gets hungry in the process_ ’.

It was a pretty accurate description, according to several of their mutual friends.

Changmin needed better friends.  

The singer leaned over the counter to talk to the bartender, hip cocked into a sinful angle and shirt riding up to show a sliver of pale skin.

Something in Changmin’s head screeched.

“You’re not terrible,” Changmin said in greeting, which wasn’t exactly a compliment and he received a confused smile for his trouble. He tried again once he’d cleared his throat, felt the tips of his ears burning with embarrassment. “Can I buy you a drink?”

Those dark eyes gave him a slow once-over, lingering over his tailored suit and polished shoes and Changmin didn’t shy away. He had no reason to be embarrassed over his good fortune, knew what other people thought when they looked at him. He’s cut in the same cloth as his father and the Shims were proud, unyielding creatures. After a few seconds, the smile turned less confused, more amenable. A smidgen more attractive, if that was even possible. “Sure. Whatever they have on tap.”

Changmin refrained from wrinkling his nose, but his distaste must’ve been obvious because the singer’s smile widened.

“I’m a cheap date,” he said laughingly. The stool creaked when he took a seat, bumped their knees together. His legs were long and lean and Changmin was already thinking about having them wrapped around his waist. “We can get pizza if you’re still feeling generous.”

“Just pizza?”

His eyes crinkled. “For now.”

 

.

 

Changmin got his phone number later, scribbled on a piece of stained napkin, after enduring the greasy monstrosity that masqueraded itself as something edible.

The sacrifices he'd make for a pretty face.

 

.

 

Kyuhyun dropped in Changmin’s office the next day, wielding apologies like a pro.

“I didn’t mean to ditch you, but my secretary caught up before I could escape.”

Changmin rolled his eyes so hard he’s getting war flashbacks. “Get a new secretary.”

“Yeah, and you’ll read about the police finding my body in a shallow grave somewhere,” Kyuhyun muttered. “I swear Dad hires that psychopath on purpose. I tried putting a PI on his ass, but the guy couldn’t find anything incriminating. Nobody’s that clean, Chwang. _Nobody_.”

“Didn’t know you’re this paranoid, Cho.” Changmin would’ve pitied Kyuhyun more if he didn’t know for a fact that Kyuhyun spent the last two years going through secretaries like they’re cheap paper towels. He shoved Kyuhyun’s hand off the latest financial report on one of their subsidiaries overseas. “Maybe it’s time you try doing some actual work for a change.”

Kyuhyun went quiet for a few minutes, before he rounded the table and grabbed Changmin’s chair. “You’re awfully chipper today. Did I miss anything?”

Changmin didn’t look up from the printed numbers in his hands, but the grin cutting into his cheeks was a dead giveaway.

“I knew it!” Kyuhyun crowed, eyes wide. He snatched the report and tossed it onto the table, forced Changmin to look at him like the demanding dickbag that he was. “Something happened at the bar? Is that why you didn’t pick up my calls? You got laid, huh?”

“No.” After a second, Changmin amended, “Not yet.”

 

.

 

Yunho turned out to be one of those idiots who used excessive emoji in his text messages.

Changmin put his face into his hands after one particular emoji-laden text and groaned so loud that his secretary poked her head inside to see if he needed anything.

“I’m going out,” he told her and power-walked out of the office before she could remind him about all the meetings in his schedule.

He received an email from her ten minutes later and deleted it without looking.

 

.

 

“What are you doing here?”

Changmin leaned against his black Porsche, pulling off sunglasses and flicking hair out of his eyes. A girl walked into a pillar somewhere to his right. “I’m in the area. You’re done with class, right?”

If Yunho heard the lie, he didn’t say anything. He came closer and palmed the car’s gleaming hood with unabashed admiration, and Changmin resisted the urge to preen. “Yeah.” He raised his eyebrows. “Are you taking me out for lunch?”

“I’m hungry,” Changmin offered in lieu of actual answer. “Get in.”

Yunho’s enrolled in a no-name college near the bar, doing Performing Arts or something equally useless, and he’s the antithesis of every single person Changmin had ever pursued. He came all the way from Gwangju and proud of it, demonstrated his dialect while Changmin winced in the driver’s seat. He owned seven different pairs of atrocious jeans and not one decent suit, so it wasn’t a surprise when they’re refused entrance to Changmin’s favourite Italian restaurant as the maitre d’ levelled a disapproving stare at Yunho’s #4 ripped jeans. Changmin learnt that Yunho preferred ramen anyway, so he allowed Yunho to drag him to a ramen place that didn’t look too shabby and spent an hour debating the merits of rock vs pop music (Changmin still thought X Japan was the best thing to happen in the history of ever and Michael Jackson was just kind of cool, if not borderline creepy).

He drove Yunho home after their not-quite-a-date and found that he lived in a rundown apartment with a couple friends he mentioned in passing, a Heechul and a Donghae.

Changmin refused to step foot inside the building when Yunho invited him in.

“Why do you live here,” he said, scandalised and disgusted. He eyed the graffiti scrawled all over once-white walls and shuddered. “It looks like a crack house. Are you sure this is not a crack house?”

“Don’t be an asshole,” Yunho said, but cheerfully. He’d pulled his hair into a loose ponytail sitting at the base of his neck somewhere between the ramen place and the apartment, and Changmin wanted to run his fingers through it to see if it’s as soft as it looked. Wanted to do a lot of things to Yunho that’s inappropriate and would probably result in both of them getting booked for public indecency. “Thanks for lunch.” Yunho’s face went all soft, as did his voice. “I’ll see you tomorrow?”

Changmin said, “Maybe,” when he meant _of course_.   

 

.

 

His secretary learnt to block the hour pre and post lunch break after the second time Changmin arrived late for an appointment with a very large, very angry Saudi investor, because Yunho randomly decided to show Changmin the best patbingsu café (in his opinion; Yunho had a lot of opinions about a lot of things and could get pretty worked up over them – Changmin found this equally exasperating and adorable). The café happened to be in the other side of town and so crowded with loud, tittering girls that it took them ages to get a table. Changmin might’ve elbowed someone in a school uniform to get them out of the way when Yunho wasn’t looking.

The patbingsu was no better than the ones Changmin had eaten before, but Yunho spent an ungodly amount of time sucking on frozen strawberries and they made his lips look fuller and redder than usual. He also liked to speak with his lips wrapped around spoons and straws and Changmin thought about other things that Yunho’s mouth could wrap around. Like his dick, for example. A terrible decision because by then, he had to desperately think of unsexy things to calm said dick down. Kyuhyun’s hairy legs and dog poops and old people’s butts made perfunctory appearance until Yunho swallowed a strawberry whole and Changmin heard his self-control ripping at the seams.

They went to the café again the week after.

Yunho insisted on those same strawberries to garnish his shaved ice.

Changmin’s running out of gross things to think about so he just sort of resorted to crossing his legs real hard to cut off blood circulation from going southward.

It didn’t work. Not really.

He wondered if he’s a closet masochist as Yunho made throaty, pleased noises around a particularly large strawberry and spent the entire lunch break glowering at anyone who so much as looked at Yunho.

 

.

 

“Still chasing after that piece of ass, Chwang?”

Changmin was tempted to tell his secretary to stop letting Kyuhyun in, but that would require actual effort and he’s fresh out of fuck to give after that disastrous video conference with his father. Apparently Shim Dongsik wanted to know if the rumours he heard about Changmin ditching work was true. It wasn’t, of course, since he only went out with Yunho during lunch breaks and when he didn’t have any appointment and if the appointments he did have could be postponed to when Yunho had classes, so he indignantly told his father to have more faith in him. And then started a new note in his phone to list down potential traitors who had been blabbing about him to his father.

He put Kyuhyun’s name somewhere on the list. Just because.

Changmin stared at his phone. Maybe if he ignored Kyuhyun, he’d go away. “What do you want.”

Kyuhyun sat on the table, displacing a stack of folders. Changmin wished he’d called security five minutes ago. “You haven’t been hanging out with us lately. Minho almost forgets what you look like.”

“That’s because Minho gets concussions often enough to turn his brain into liquid mush.”

“Touché.” Kyuhyun heaved a theatrical sigh and patted Changmin’s shoulder. “I’m just saying. Bros before hoes, man.”

Changmin shot him an unimpressed look. “When you were dating that Japanese exchange student, I distinctly remember not seeing your ugly mug for two months straight.”

“Ah. That’s different. There were… extenuating circumstances.”

“Like what? She sucked your dick so good, you couldn’t find your way to the door?”

Kyuhyun’s eyes glazed over, as if reliving the best days of his life. “No gag reflex.”

Changmin made a face. “Gross. Go have your dirty fantasies somewhere else, Kyu.”

“Anyway,” Kyuhyun drawled, smoothing a hand over his suit like he didn’t just about to pop a boner in Changmin’s office. “I’m not here just to remind you that you’re a shitty friend. You heard about Choi Industries buying out TRAX Technologies, right?”

No, Changmin did not. He stared at Kyuhyun, mouth pressed into a grim, thin line. “How’d you know?”

“Ryeowook.” A mutual friend who unfortunately worked for Choi Industries. Ryeowook only had good things to say about the company and its CEO in general, and maybe Changmin grudged him a bit for that. “The press conference’s tomorrow.”

“Fuck,” he said, with extra feeling. And then spat out the word again because he wasn’t expecting Siwon to completely blindside him like this. Changmin thought he still had the upper hand during negotiation a few weeks back, but it seemed like he’d been too preoccupied to notice the gargantuan movements taking place right underneath his nose. His father was going to be Very Upset. He lifted his head to catch Kyuhyun’s eyes. “I need a drink.”

Kyuhyun made a sympathetic noise, but his face was gleeful at the prospect of going on a mid-day drinking bender. “I’ll call Minho.”

 

.

 

Changmin woke up with a massive hangover, sprawled across the floor of what he could vaguely recognise as Kyuhyun’s penthouse apartment. It felt like someone had shoved roadkill down his throat and it’s being digested very, very slowly and violently. The ceiling spun for a while. He closed his eyes and thought about Yunho. And then wondered where Yunho was, if he’s having fun with his friends. Without Changmin. The thought made everything that wasn’t physical hurt, so he shifted to his side and nearly kicked Minho in the face. He needed to go back. He needed to call his father and report his failure and then get yelled at hard enough to last until Chuseok. Changmin couldn’t find his phone so he crawled over Minho’s prone body to check his watch. And his pulse as well, just to make sure Minho was alive after all those tequila shots.

Minho made a muffled noise and rolled over, snoring softly.

Changmin snorted. Should’ve known the kid was as indestructible as a cockroach.

“Welcome back to the land of the living, princess.” Kyuhyun flopped to the floor right next to him, cross-legged, and exhaled noisily. He looked as rumpled as Changmin felt. “What are you gonna do about Siwon?”

“Beat him next time.” Changmin dug his knuckles into an eye, felt marginally more awake once he’s reminded why he decided to get drunk in the first place. “Lucky bastard can’t win forever.”

Kyuhyun smacked him on the back. He might’ve dislodged a lung or two, and laughed when Changmin lunged at him. “That’s the spirit!”

The commotion eventually woke Minho up and they chugged several bottles of hangover cure between them, before Changmin decided that it was time to go. He found his phone where he’d left it (inside his pocket) and stared at the messages blinking up at him on the screen. It’s Yunho, asking if he’s up for dinner because Heechul and Donghae had dates, followed by a ‘ _don’t worry about it, guess you’re busy_ ’ half an hour later. His texts were punctuated by too many emoji again. Changmin scrubbed a hand over his face as he punched out a reply that didn’t include telling Yunho he was getting shitfaced with his two best friends after fucking up at work.

Kyuhyun peered over Changmin’s shoulder and clicked his tongue.

“You really like this guy, huh?”

Changmin shoved the phone back into his pocket. “He’s not boring.”

“I’ve known you for fifteen years, Chwang. You never made this much effort for anyone else. Not even me.” Kyuhyun scowled. “I’m kinda offended, come to think of it.”

“I don’t want to fuck you through the mattress, that’s probably why.”

Kyuhyun muttered something that sounded like _plenty of people want to fuck me through the mattress_ , but Changmin was too distracted with trying to put his hands through the sleeves of his suit jacket to care. He slapped the back of Minho’s head on the way out and grinned at the indignant noises he got in return, cut off when the door snapped shut behind him. He thought about driving home, but knew better than getting behind the wheel when the world was still a bit fuzzy around the edges. That’s one particular statistic he wasn’t interested in joining. He had to scroll through his contact list a couple times before he found the number he wanted and thanked whatever deity listening that the Shim estate wasn’t that far from Kyuhyun’s.

He sent a ‘ _where are you’_ text to Yunho while he waited for his ride.

When he got a short ‘ _gig’_ in return fifteen minutes later, Changmin stumbled into the backseat of the family’s limousine and gave his chauffeur the bar’s address.

 

.

 

Yunho was already halfway through the night’s choice of song when Changmin shouldered his way inside. It’s more up-tempo than the first time Changmin heard him sing, the lyrics a lot raunchier, and his blood simmered as he recognised the hungry look on several faces upturned towards Yunho. It sobered him up real quick. One of them even had to nerve to dance up to the stage and grab Yunho’s waist, a move spurred by catcalls from the rest of the audience. He saw Yunho stiffen for a half-second, before a playful grin slammed up to hide the microscopical slip. As if he’s used to being touched against his will, as if he didn’t mind being treated like a plaything. Changmin could hear his molars grinding away as he watched Yunho dislodge the hand curled around his waist and shimmy as far as he could from the grabby asshole, his voice unwavering. The drunken hyenas off-stage booed loudly. Changmin wanted to kill all of them. He dismissed the bartender with an impatient grunt, kept his eyes on Yunho and stifled the urge to drag him off the stage right then and there.

Yunho’s face lit up once he noticed Changmin and he hurried over once the song was over.

“Hey—”

Changmin cut him off before he could say anything else. “I haven’t had dinner.”

If Yunho was surprised by the abrupt demand, he didn’t show it. He just smiled, slow and sweet, and said, “Sure. I know a place nearby.”

Roadside stalls were something Changmin had heard about but never considered, so of course Yunho made a beeline towards one. He greeted the owner warmly, spent a few minutes listening to her gripe about whatever old ladies gripe about as Changmin stood behind him, feeling conspicuously out of place even if nobody paid them any attention. She eventually shooed them over to a table and sent a couple bottles of soju, with plates of chicken gizzards and steamed squid thrown together. Yunho tried making small talks, but Changmin was too pissed off to reciprocate and concentrated on the soju instead.

It’s bad enough that he was still smarting about Siwon; the thought of strangers touching Yunho made him lose what little appetite he had.

_And who the fuck eats gizzards?_

“Are you doing anything after this?”

The question jerked Changmin out of his morose wondering. “Not really. Why?”

Yunho poured both of them more soju. “You’ll see.”

 

.

 

The sea looked endless.

There’s something soothing about the crash of waves upon waves, one continuous dissonance from the distance and Changmin wondered if there were monsters out there. Just underneath the surface. Giant fish-like things, with webbed feet and bulging eyes and row upon rows of needle-sharp teeth, waiting for the unwary. He hadn’t been anywhere near the sea since forever and the only things he remembered were crumbling sandcastles and the fretful hands of his nanny when he tried to venture too far. Wasn’t exactly a fond memory. Changmin wrinkled his nose as his patent leather shoes sunk into the sand.

One of these days, he would have to say ‘no’ when Yunho suggested ridiculous things.

Like going to the beach at ungodly hours.

As if summoned by Changmin’s foul mood, Yunho slung an arm around his shoulder and beamed hard enough to power a small country. “Changmin-ah~”

Changmin narrowed his eyes. “Whatever you’re thinking of doing, _don’t_.”

Yunho’s grin was a too-late warning, and Changmin found himself half-shoved, half-carried into the sea before he could escape. Water erupted around them in huge sprays as he flailed and garbled curses against Yunho’s bulkier frame, grabbing at everything within reach. Before he could get his hands on Yunho’s ass, Yunho decided to take pity and flopped off of him. It’s the greatest injustice ever, but at least no one’s in danger of drowning anymore. Changmin spent the next five minutes sputtering and crawling out of the water, already plotting Yunho’s murder in his head.

He must’ve swallowed about a gallon of salt.

And his suit was fucking _ruined_.

“You’re gonna pay for this.”

Yunho’s eyes crinkled into half-moons at the threat, shoulder pressed to Changmin’s and looking absolutely, stubbornly unrepentant. He’s stretched out on the sand, soaked right through and face tilted to catch a sliver of shimmering moonlight. It’s unfair for someone so annoying to be so attractive, but Changmin knew from experience that the world could be a great big bag of dicks when it wanted to. Yunho exhaled slowly and Changmin thought he could maybe accidentally on purpose roll onto him and blame it on lack of oxygen or something.

“Are you feeling better?”

Changmin stared. “What.”

“You looked stressed.” Yunho shifted to his side, hair plastered to his cheeks and face going unbearably affectionate. “I wanted to cheer you up.”

Despite his best efforts, Changmin’s ears reddened. There’s sand in uncomfortable places and water in his shoes and he really, really wanted to touch Yunho’s everything just to make sure he’s real. Not something Changmin’s mind conjured up on a whim. “You almost drowned me. This hardly counts as cheering up.”

“You’re smiling now though,” Yunho pointed out, his eyes all crinkly again. A finger jabbed at Changmin’s cheek. “You should smile more, Changminnie-ah.”

Some sort of a desperate noise spilled into the distance between them and Changmin noticed belatedly that he was the one making it, if the surprised look on Yunho’s face was of any indication. He rolled onto his side so that they’re face to face and basked in the ripple of red that crept onto Yunho’s cheeks, darkening once Changmin slid an arm over his waist to pull Yunho towards him. There’s no resistance and he took that in strides, tilting forward as Yunho’s fingers hesitantly skittered over the stretch of his neck, before they settled on his shoulder.

“Changmin—” The playful lilt in Yunho’s voice was no longer there, replaced by something darker and heavier that mirrored the rumblings in Changmin’s chest. He licked his lips and Changmin’s eyes followed that pink tongue over the swell of his bottom lip. “I—“

Changmin surged forward, closed the inches and stole the words right out of Yunho’s mouth.

 

.

 

They found a motel somewhere close and the receptionist took one look at their bedraggled, sand-logged clothes before informing them that laundry service wasn’t provided. Changmin very nearly impaled the middle-aged man with his credit card. Going up the stairs felt like absolute ages and the lock relented after Yunho’s third try – probably because he had Changmin pressing up against him, hands grabbing everything he could reach and radiating impatience thick enough to cut. Once the door clicked close behind them, Changmin didn’t waste any time slamming Yunho against it.

His surprised laughter stuttered into moans once Changmin’s hand went under his shirt.

Yunho still tasted like the sea.

Changmin licked salt off his skin and Yunho gasped, rippled against him. Changmin turned his face and touched his lips to the inside of Yunho’s wrist, and because he couldn’t help it, he bit into the soft skin there. Yunho’s pulse throbbed under his teeth and stark hunger shot through him, made him want more than just a measly bite. Yunho pressed closer and Changmin’s breath quickened, lungs hollowing out in anticipation. The gleam in Yunho’s eyes was desperate and he looked as starved as Changmin felt.

“Changminne,” was all Yunho said, syllables short and clipped.

Changmin inhaled so sharply it hurt and he took hold of Yunho’s face in both palms, dragged him into a bruising kiss that was all lips and tongues and teeth. He didn’t have any softness to spare, didn’t think this was the time for it. Triumph swelled inside his ribs when Yunho arched into him, mouth dark and swollen but still asking for more. Changmin’s head fogged with wanting and his dick ached so hard it made the entire world melt away until what remained were the noises Yunho made and the way he bent easily, readily to Changmin’s will.

He skimmed his knuckles over Yunho’s cheekbones and at the touch, Yunho tilted towards him, instinctive. Changmin marvelled at how sweetly Yunho yielded, and he knew, with unquestionable certainty, that he’s going to fuck Yunho and he’s going to keep at it until Yunho’s a tender, screaming wreck beneath him. He’s going to get him so well-fucked that Yunho would remember Changmin every time he so much as moved a muscle. Changmin pulled off Yunho’s flimsy shirt, threw it somewhere over his shoulder as he walked him backwards to the bed so they could get down to the main event before his dick implode. The bed creaked ominously at their combined weight, which was something Changmin would’ve worried over if he wasn’t too intent on getting Yunho out of his ridiculous jeans.

“Did you superglue this to your ass, what the fuck,” he growled, tugging ineffectively at one of the belt loops before giving up. He glared at the laughing crook of Yunho’s mouth. “Get it off.”

Yunho sniggered. “What’s the magic word?”

Changmin dug nails into the cut of hipbones peeking out of those jeans and grinned viciously when Yunho shuddered. “Like what? Open sesame, let me in so I can fuck you hard and put you away wet?”

There’s a high pink flush along Yunho’s cheeks and his eyes went half-lidded, ink-black. “Yeah. That’ll do.”

An obscene amount of wriggling and shimmying was involved in getting rid of the jeans and Changmin shucked his own clothes at the same time, exhaled in relief when his dick sprung free. Yunho stopped to stare and flushed darker when Changmin gave him a pointed look, before redoubling his effort to get just as naked. Once his jeans and briefs were off and kicked aside, Changmin resisted the urge to smother Yunho in favour of enjoying the sight of miles upon miles of skin stretched out before him. Firm muscles jumped and shifted under his fingers and Yunho’s knees fell open around Changmin.

An invitation he wasn’t about to ignore any longer.

Changmin ducked his head to put their mouths together again. They slid slickly, messily against each other and Changmin drank in each sound like he’s dying from thirst. He ran his hands in possessive strokes down the planes of Yunho’s body and unresisting, Yunho watched Changmin touching him, watched Changmin’s hands sweep down his chest and belly and moaned softly when Changmin toyed with his nipples. Changmin’s mouth replaced his hands, teeth grazing Yunho’s pectoral before he moved upwards, bit down on the corded muscles of Yunho’s neck. Yunho bucked against him helplessly and his mouth opened in a silent gasp.

He’s the prettiest thing Changmin had ever seen.

Revelling in what he had before him, Changmin ran the flat of a hand along Yunho’s inner thigh and curled his fingers around Yunho’s dick. Yunho made this low, keening noise that cut straight through his head and Changmin captured his lips to swallow it whole. He also did so to stifle the sound he knew Yunho would make, because they didn’t have any lube and Changmin wasn’t feeling patient enough to stop. He spat on his palm and worked a finger between Yunho’s ass cheeks, catching Yunho’s eyes.

“Okay?”

Reading between the lines, it took a half-second before Yunho nodded and Changmin let out the lungful of air he didn’t realise he was holding. Yunho’s eyes crinkled, even if the grin he wore creased around the edges. “Just—go slow. It’s been a while.”

A flare of jealousy seared Changmin’s spine when he thought of the lucky fucker that came before him and if he worked Yunho open a little rougher than he intended, it wasn’t out of spite. Not really. Yunho’s fretful whines didn’t deter him and Changmin guided the head of his dick to Yunho’s hole once he’d loosened up enough, fucking himself inside in slow, jerky thrusts. Yunho squirmed and groaned against Changmin’s collarbone, body strung tight, struggling to accommodate Changmin’s girth. Yunho’s breathing had gone loud and choppy and his nails dug into the back of Changmin’s neck and shoulder as he hung on, tried to open up wider to ease Changmin in more gently. The clinging heat of Yunho’s body dragged a raw groan from Changmin and he sunk in the last few inches, so deep inside he’d swear he could feel Yunho’s frantic heartbeats against his dick.

In another lifetime, Changmin would’ve taken his time. Would’ve done this slow and sweet, like Yunho probably deserved. But it’s too late for any of that now, too good to regret it. Moistening his own lips, he grabbed Yunho’s hips and started on a punishing cadence. With each slam, Yunho’s breath hitched into a gasp that stuttered at first, but soon increased in urgency. Changmin’s own rough grunts echoed in the room, gunshot-loud in his ears and he fucked hard enough to wrench harsh cries out of Yunho’s mouth. He didn’t want Yunho to be able to walk straight after he’s done with him, wanted Yunho to lie in bed and ache where Changmin’s been inside him. Yunho moved under him, writhing and twisting desperately, and all of that only served to make Changmin go harder. Faster. His heart threatened to beat right out of his chest and he knew that he wouldn’t last long. He reached for Yunho’s dick, hot and heavy, and jacked him in counterpoint to his thrusts.

Yunho sobbed a mouthful of garbled syllables that sounded a lot like Changmin’s name, before his come pulsed over Changmin’s fingers.

He’s so, so tight in that second that Changmin’s vision whited out and he ground into Yunho, chasing his own orgasm. Every single nerve inside him was lit up and alive, white-hot electricity sparking under his skin like he’d just short-circuited. The strain went out of his shoulders after a few seconds and he’s left loose and humming. Yunho shuddered when Changmin eased his dick out of Yunho’s hole and Changmin felt a twinge of primitive satisfaction as he watched come dribbling out onto the crumpled bedsheet underneath them. He went to the bathroom and found some face towels, ran one under the tap before returning to bed in time to see Yunho gingerly trying to push himself up on his elbows. He seemed to rethink that decision and flopped back again.

“Ow.” He turned his face towards Changmin, brows creased and swollen lips pursed into a pout. “That wasn’t slow at all, Changdol.”

Changmin huffed, smothering the giddy laughter he could feel bubbling at the back of his throat. He wasn’t fifteen anymore, for fuck’s sake. He ran his fingers through Yunho’s sweat-damp hair, pushing the strands back so he could look at Yunho’s face. His thumb lingered on the beauty mark above the quirk of Yunho’s lips. “I didn’t hear you complaining just now.”

Yunho opened his mouth, about to argue, but thought better of it. Instead, he leaned into Changmin’s hand and stretched luxuriously when Changmin finished cleaning him up. Like a giant, spoiled housecat. Changmin tossed the towel towards the bedside table and slid down next to Yunho, long arms snaking around his waist and pulling Yunho against him. Yunho went easily, nuzzling into Changmin’s shoulder and tangling their legs together like they’d done this countless times before. The blankets settled over them both and Changmin nosed into the top of Yunho’s head, thought about leaving a circle of pretty bruises around Yunho’s neck for him to wear and everyone else to see.

He thought about biting down hard enough to leave marks that would last several lifetimes.

Right on cue, Changmin’s stomach grumbled.

Yunho tipped his head back and started laughing.

 

.

 

**TBC**

 

.

 


	2. .02

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> it's already two hours past twelve in my side of the world, but it's still yunho's birthday on the other side. :D decided to finally update this story in celebration of my favourite boy turning 33! jung yunho, you are the light of my life and thousands others, so i pray that you will continue to burn as brightly as you are right now for many years more to come. ily and here's to your happiness!

 

.

 

Changmin called in sick the next morning because he’s still inside the crappy motel room somewhere too far from his glass-and-chrome office and wasn’t exactly interested in dealing with paperwork and difficult, demanding corporate assholes when he could just, you know, spend quality time fucking Yunho into a stupor. Now that they weren’t dancing around each other, now that Changmin could do whatever the hell he wanted and knew Yunho wouldn’t say ‘ _no_ ’. He hung up before his secretary could ask if he needed a doctor and switched his phone off, gazing up to catch Yunho’s eyes.

Yunho braced himself against Changmin’s chest, sweat glistening on bare, golden skin. His smile was supernova-bright. “You sure you won’t get into trouble if you skip work?”

Changmin dug his fingers deeper into Yunho’s splayed thighs and sighed, exasperation warring with amusement. “Are you seriously asking me that when I’ve got my dick inside you?”

Yunho gasped when Changmin bucked into him to punctuate the question and the way his spine bent was fascinating. Changmin wanted to twist him into all kinds of positions, wanted to see how much Yunho could take before something breaks. Yunho’s fingers scrabbled for purchase every time he’s jostled, still unbelievably tight as if he hadn’t been thoroughly fucked several times over. His mouth fell open around the shapeless, punched-out noises that went straight to Changmin’s dick and he wondered if Yunho knew how wretchedly debauched he looked.

How heart-stoppingly beautiful.

A slow, affectionate grin uncurled across Changmin’s face and his thumbs pressed into the soft underside of Yunho’s jaw. The grin sharpened when Yunho keened. “Yeah, didn’t think so.”

 

.

 

There were fifteen missed calls and seven texts from Kyuhyun sitting in his inbox later that evening, more swearing than actual words, and Changmin was almost sorry he forgot that they were supposed to meet at lunch to discuss a business arrangement. But then again, Yunho’s looking at him quizzically from his perch on the chair – shirtless, jeans unbuttoned and hair sticking up everywhere from the shower he’d just taken. Changmin dropped the phone onto the bed and stalked towards him, stopping only when he’s squeezed into the vee of Yunho’s spread legs.

Yunho reached out to curl his arms over Changmin’s neck, dragging him down for a kiss.

Changmin thought of using teeth, but Yunho made a soft, sweet sound as he pressed closer, and maybe the violent lurching inside Changmin’s chest was from that chicken gizzard he ate yesterday instead of anything unnecessary.

Like unfamiliar, overbearing affection.

 

.

 

Between the fuckstorm brewing at work and flying coast to coast to their subsidiaries to deal with ramifications related to Choi Industries’ recent acquisition, Changmin hadn’t seen Yunho for eleven days. He counted. It wasn’t as if he had much choice – his father’s order brooked no argument and Changmin was stuck doing damage control for as long as Shim Senior deemed necessary. There were ruffled feathers to be soothed, boards of directors that needed pacifying. Not unlike babysitting a bunch of entitled, whiny children. Yunho sounded understanding enough when Changmin explained his prolonged absence via an international and hellishly expensive phone call.

The conversation wasn’t too awkward, didn’t feel like the tectonic plates underneath whatever they had between them had shifted overnight.

And Changmin appreciated that, he really did.

Nothing should change just because they slept together.

Which didn’t explain the irritable itch he felt when he tried calling Yunho several times and getting his voicemail instead. Yunho usually picked up after the second ring and this sudden radio silence didn’t sit well with him. Changmin couldn’t even concentrate during his meetings since he’s too busy trying to figure out what the hell Yunho was doing that’s more important than his calls. After the nth times of hearing the female operator’s voice telling him to leave a message and stifling the urge to curse at her, he finally told his secretary to book a ticket to Seoul. It’s a four-hour flight that he spent quietly fuming and ignoring the flight attendants.

He sent Yunho a text when he’s already on the way to his campus and only had to wait for fifteen minutes before he saw Yunho hobbling towards him.

On crutches.

Changmin stared.

“What the hell happened?”

“Minor injury.” Yunho’s grin was sheepish. The crutches clattered against the cobblestone and Changmin didn’t miss the wince accompanying every step. “New choreography. I landed wrong.”

“Are you an idiot?” The words came out soft and concerned instead of a sharp reprimand, and Changmin’s heart did a backflip off of metaphorical stairs when Yunho’s cheeks pinked. He’s pretty sure he wasn’t supposed to sound like a smitten dumbass this much this early. “How long does it take for you to get better?"

“Uh. About eight weeks?”

“What kind of minor injury takes eight fucking weeks to heal?!”

Yunho shrugged and allowed Changmin to open the passenger door for him, sliding inside after tossing the crutches to the backseat. Changmin could hear them clatter to the floor and wondered if he’s going to find scratches on the inside panelling. He sent a quick text to a number he hadn’t used for a while and slammed the door shut with as much vehemence as he could muster.  

Yunho looked a smidgen worried when he realised they weren’t heading for their usual lunch spot. “Where are we going?”

Changmin’s knuckles were white around the steering wheel. “The hospital.”

“…Why?”

“Second opinion.” Changmin didn’t say how much he hated not being able to do anything more. He grabbed Yunho’s elbow when he tried to escape, fingers digging into scratchy denim and eyes going a bit wild. “My personal doctor is already waiting.”

Yunho looked three seconds away from bodily shoving Changmin off and throwing himself out of the moving car. “I already got it checked!”

Changmin snorted, one hand still pinning Yunho in place. He nearly ran down a few straggling girls who were gaping at them. “I don’t care.”

Changmin’s doctor ended up saying ‘ _it’s stress fracture, Changmin-sshi, of course it’ll take anywhere from six to eight weeks. Yunho-sshi said he already went to the hospital before, so is there another reason you’re here or are you done wasting my time?_ ’

It’s very much possible that he’s going to need a new doctor – one who didn’t actually witness his birth and therefore would entertain his whims without outright complaining. Yunho threw him a ‘ _told you so_ ’ look once they exited the hospital and Changmin wondered why he even bothered feeling worried over Yunho’s well-being if he’s going to be treated like a neurotic asshole. They stopped at Yunho’s favourite café for lunch and Changmin glared at the crutches hard enough that he didn’t notice Yunho stealing half of his carbonara until it’s too late.

“You should’ve told me earlier that you’re coming back.” Yunho had specks of white sauce on his cheek. He swiped at them and missed. “You said you’ll be busy until next week.”

“I am,” he snapped, before leaning over and thumbing off the sauce because apparently, he’s now attracted to someone who couldn’t even eat without being a mess. He brought his thumb to his mouth to lick it clean and watched with immense satisfaction as Yunho flushed. “I’m flying back out tonight. Can’t postpone those goddamned meetings.”

Yunho tilted his head. “Oh.” He paused. His eyes twinkled. “Did you come back because you missed me?”

The question slammed into Changmin with the force of a sixteen wheeler and he choked on a mouthful of creamy pasta. The couple next to their table glanced over with matching worried looks and hands holding out their respective smartphones – either to call an ambulance or record a video of Changmin choking to death, who knew. Yunho was too busy laughing to be of any help and Changmin kicked the leg of his chair in retaliation. It’s childish and petty and definitely worth the look on Yunho’s face as he wobbled and nearly toppled over. Their waitress came over with a half-worried, half-annoyed look that clearly telegraphed what she thought about the commotion in the middle of their rush hour.

She went off once Yunho assured her no one’s about to die.

“I miss you too,” Yunho said, all pleased and cheerful and crinkly-eyed. Changmin hated him a little. “Changminnie, I wanted to tell you something before you went off, but—”

“Hey!”

Changmin turned towards the source of the voice and his mood soured once he realised who it was – Choi fucking Siwon, CEO of Choi Industries and the current bane of Changmin’s existence. He couldn’t even begin to fathom why the hell Siwon would choose this particular café on this particular day and why he’s walking towards Changmin to greet him like they’re old friends instead of business rivals. Siwon looked good, looked like he’d just stepped out of a GQ cover and his million-dollar smile could've eclipsed the sun in its entirety. If Changmin wasn’t so handsome himself, he would’ve felt marginally intimidated by the other man’s attractiveness.

Siwon stopped once he reached their table, a hand landing heavily on Yunho’s shoulder.

Changmin couldn’t tell who was more surprised by Siwon’s presence – him or Yunho.

“Yun-ah, it’s been a while.” Yunho hesitated for a second, before gingerly standing up and allowing Siwon to embrace him. Siwon glanced at his leg, face crumpled into a frown. “What happened?”

“Injured myself during practice.” Yunho pulled back, perhaps sensing the ominous vibes rolling off of Changmin, but his eyes remained steadfast on Siwon. Who still had a hand clasped over Yunho’s back. Changmin’s fingers curled over the tablecloth. “What’re you doing here, Siwonnie?”

“I had a meeting with some of my investors. But more importantly, I heard about your father.” The concern in Siwon’s voice was palpable. Changmin wondered what the fuck happened to Yunho’s father and why Siwon knew when Changmin didn’t. “How’s he doing now?”

“He’s improving. The doctor said all he needs right now is enough rest and a strict diet.” The smile Yunho wore wasn’t reflected in his eyes and his brief glance towards Changmin’s general direction betrayed his unease. Siwon seemed to catch onto the fact that he’d just crashed a lunch date, attention shifting from Yunho to Changmin. “Ah, I should’ve introduced you guys earlier. Changmin, this is Choi Siwon. He’s—”

Yunho hesitated. Changmin stared, waiting.

And Siwon stepped into the silence Yunho left behind effortlessly, a hand held out towards Changmin, “—My ex-boyfriend.”

“ _Siwon!_ ”

Siwon sidestepped Yunho’s panicked swipe and grinned with all teeth. “It’s a joke, Yundol. And I know your friend, although we’ve never properly met. You're Shim Changmin, right? From Shim Industries?”

Changmin accepted the proffered hand and gave it a perfunctory shake, a courtesy he extended just because not doing so would make him look like an asshole in front of Yunho. If he’d gripped Siwon’s hand harder than necessary, it’s all accidental. "And you’re Choi Siwon. Congratulations are in order."

"Thanks, man. Got lucky this time around," Siwon said. He sounded genuinely pleased, although Changmin wouldn't put it past him to employ that usual ruse of false modesty that men in their position were so fond of. Siwon glanced at his watch and cursed, before he turned to Yunho once again. His hand came up to clap Yunho's shoulder and Changmin didn't understand why Siwon needed to touch Yunho so fucking much. "I’m running late for another meeting, but we’ll catch up, alright?"

Yunho nodded. His cheeks were still pink. "I’ll call later. Tell your parents I said ‘hi’."

"Sure." Siwon ducked his head to whisper something into Yunho's ear, lips brushing the soft skin there and it's a good thing they're in public because Changmin had never felt more like stabbing someone with a spoon. Yunho's brows creased, shoulder stiffening almost imperceptibly at whatever it was he'd just heard. A few seconds later, Siwon straightened and inclined his head towards Changmin. "Pleasure meeting you. We should hang out one of these days."

Changmin thought, _no way in hell._ He said, "Sounds good."

Siwon flashed them one of those thousand-watt smiles before departing as abruptly as he came, a human-skinned hurricane of bad news and worse premonitions. Yunho was looking down at his plate, the frown stubbornly in place and there were so many things Changmin wanted to ask that he didn’t know where to begin. 

“So.” Changmin crossed his arms, appetite well and truly gone. "Ex-boyfriend?"

Yunho coloured. "Not really." At Changmin’s raised eyebrow, he added, in a rush of words, "I mean, we fooled around a few times before, but it's— nothing serious."

He didn’t like the sound of that: _fooling around_. It made him think of what they’re doing, if Yunho considered that fooling around as well. If Changmin was relegated to ‘nothing serious’, sitting in the same spot Siwon apparently did. He had to unclench his jaw to ask, “What was it that you wanted to tell me?”

There’s a split second of silence, before Yunho grabbed a fork and chased a cherry tomato around his plate. “It’s nothing.”

Someone should tell Yunho that he’s a terrible liar.

 

.

 

It probably said bad things about his character that Changmin spent the last two hours before his flight trying to convince Yunho into having sex with him. He still couldn’t get the image of Siwon casually manhandling Yunho at the café out of his mind, so the obvious solution was to stake his claim anew and make sure that Yunho would feel him for weeks afterwards. Their only concern was Yunho’s leg and Changmin knew for a fact that Yunho was flexible enough to render that point entirely moot.

Yunho just laughed off his lewd suggestion and escaped the car with nothing more than a parting kiss.

Changmin could hardly consider this entire trip the roaring success he’d envisioned.

He blamed it on Choi Siwon.

 

.

 

One of the flight attendants turned out to be his ex-girlfriend and occasional one night stand.

She winked at him when she served his lunch, red-painted lips curling into a sweetly seductive grin that promised dirty, sexy things if he so wished and—

—and his dick didn’t even twitch. Nothing. Zilch.

Changmin would’ve worried about possible early signs of erectile dysfunction if not for the fact that his treacherous dick thoroughly enjoyed Yunho’s presence a couple hours before and demanded more. She looked puzzled when he didn’t return her advances, which was something he’d never done before, and he wished he could offer an explanation as to why his dick had somehow developed a very specific taste for just one particular ass.

He doubted he could blame this one on Siwon.

 

.

 

Appeasing his father took another few weeks and Changmin found himself back in Seoul after a meeting with the executives of their Japanese branch, which went well considering Tokyo was one of his favourite cities. He spent half of the meeting thinking about hauling Yunho there sometime in the near future, maybe to visit the Tokyo Tower together and introduce him to some of the famous ramen places. Changmin even found himself googling a few remote retreats, which was kind of ridiculous. They were not in a relationship. Not really. And the frequency of which he’d been thinking about the other man was getting quite alarming. Not only was Yunho the star of Changmin’s personal downtime with his dick, the other man had somehow sneaked his way into Changmin’s dreams. Mundane, bizarrely domestic dreams that had no business intruding his sleep.

As soon as his plane landed in Incheon, Changmin called for a ride to his apartment for a shower and a change of clothes.

And then he called Yunho. Which led him to his current debacle.  

Changmin didn’t exactly hate bowling, but he’s warming up to the idea real quick.

This was basically a trap because Yunho said they’re going to do something fun and Changmin expected ‘something fun’ to be along the line of watching movies or getting naked, preferably on the large, bouncy bed in his penthouse apartment where he could make Yunho scream over and over again without having the police called on them. Yunho’s neighbourhood was as seedy as the first time Changmin came by and a couple of the local neighbourhood aunties were already giving his car unwanted attention. He was distracted by kisses as soon as Yunho got into the car, which should’ve been a foreshadowing of terrible things to come. Yunho pulled away just as someone opened the back door and two vaguely homeless looking guys bundled themselves into Changmin’s pristine car.

“What are those?” Changmin might’ve accidentally said, staring real hard into the rear-view mirror to make sure that the two were not actual strangers and he wasn’t about to be mugged.

Yunho none too gently dug an elbow into his kidney. “They’re my roommates. I told you about them, remember?”

“I try not to,” Changmin muttered, apparently not quiet enough because the elbow was back in his kidney again. “Why are they inside my car?”

“Because we’re going bowling together!”

Changmin’s about to point out that he hadn’t agreed to bowling, that he didn’t even like bowling and that his idea of a fun evening involved some combination of his dick and Yunho’s ass, but Yunho beamed at him with that wide, expectant grin and Changmin felt his resolve weakening. That’s pretty much how he found himself stuck in a bowling alley between Yunho’s best friends, who might or might not be trying to scare him off. Even the thought of it was ridiculous – Changmin’s a hardened executive who spent the better part of his life scaring off his employees and the odd uncooperative business associates. He wasn’t about to back down just because two unfortunately-dressed men thought they had a monopoly on Yunho.

"How long have you known Yundol?" Heechul asked. He's the one with inappropriately long hair and grabby hands, always plastered to Yunho's side like a fucking remora. Changmin liked Donghae more, who wasn't as abrasive and only eyed Changmin with minimal amount of suspicion. “He said you came onto him with really cheesy lines.”

"Long enough." Changmin kept his voice even, somehow managing to not sound as irritated as he felt. His lines were not cheesy, what the fuck. Yunho's choosing one of the house balls, lips pursed in concentration and Changmin's eyes landed on his lovely, tight ass. His mood immediately improved and he decided that he could at least try to be civil for a few hours. He’d extract payment from Yunho later. "What did you say you do for a living?”

“I worked in a sex shop.”

Changmin choked on his spit.

Heechul’s grin grew more teeth. “Yeah. If you need any help spicing things up—” His eyes dropped to Changmin’s crotch as someone whooped over a strike. “—Yunho has my number on speed dial.”  

Changmin levelled him a look that would’ve made a lesser man run for the hills, but Heechul only shrugged and skipped off for his turn. He slapped Yunho’s ass, who was coming back to the seats and Changmin was determined to drop a bowling ball onto Heechul’s softer parts if the opportunity ever presented itself. Yunho took one look at Changmin’s expression and raised both eyebrows.

“What’s wrong?”

“Your friends are lunatics,” Changmin told him, matter-of-factly.

Yunho, being Yunho, simply threw his head back and laughed.

 

.

 

“I’m never going bowling again,” Changmin grumbled, throwing his keys into the bowl by the door and heading for the kitchen. He belatedly remembered that he hadn’t called up his housekeeper to inform her about his arrival in Seoul, so the only thing he saw inside the refrigerator was bottled water. And a jar of kimchi that’s going through a very thorough separation. He padded into the living area to find Yunho sprawled out on the couch. “I’m ordering pizza. Do you want anything else?”

Yunho shook his head, slow and languid and dark-eyed.

One of his hands crawled to the hem of his shirt and slowly, slowly dragged it upwards.

Changmin nearly leapt the coffee table in his rush to get to Yunho.

By the time pizza arrived, Changmin had already relieved Yunho of his shirt and jeans, and Yunho was down to his boxers, hair falling over his shoulders in an untidy tangle. Yunho’s lips were red from kissing, nipples bitten and from the way he jerked when Changmin pinched him again, sore. Changmin had him sitting pretty at the edge of the couch, where the expensive light fixture made the sweat on Yunho’s skin gleam like he’d been dipped in gold. The buzzer went off again and Changmin had half a mind to ignore it in favour of sucking bruises onto Yunho’s throat, but Yunho’s already pushing him off.

“Go on,” he said, his mouth a curving sweetness that made Changmin more determined to maul him right then and there. Yunho, with a knowing twinkle in his eyes, rammed an arm against Changmin’s chest to keep him at bay. “You’re gonna get hungry later and we’ll have no food. And somehow, this is all going to be my fault.”

It’s the kind of logic Changmin couldn’t really dispute. In the time it took for him to locate his wallet and pay the delivery boy, Yunho had relocated to the bedroom and was already naked. Changmin only had a minute to appreciate the visual (and it’s a damn nice visual) before Yunho dropped to his knees and sucked Changmin into his mouth, opening his throat wide to take in as much as possible. There’s no teasing, no drawing things out – Yunho’s swallowing him down with the kind of intensity Changmin wasn’t prepared for. It’s sloppy and wet and hot and when Yunho pulled off a little to nudge experimentally under the head, little shocks of pleasure pulsed through what felt like every nerve ending in Changmin’s body.

“Fuck,” he hissed, gripping Yunho’s hair with both hands. The strands were silky fine, long enough to make it easy for Changmin to get a good handful. “Your mouth, _god_.”

Yunho moaned around him and the vibration ran through his dick like a current. Changmin was embarrassingly close to coming and he had to strongarm Yunho off of him, hustle him over to the bed and get him fingered open in record time. Changmin rubbed at the smooth, delicate stretch of skin behind Yunho’s balls with the pad of his thumb, over and over until Yunho’s panting, open-mouthed, and straining to get his legs further apart. Changmin moved upwards and braced himself on either side of Yunho’s head and kissed him, possessive and bruising.

“You wanna ride me?” He murmured messily against Yunho’s parted lips. “Or do you want to stay on your back and just take it?”

Yunho blinked up at him, eyes near luminous in the dark. His chest heaved with each panting breath and Changmin’s eyes were dragged to the pebble-tightness of his nipples. “Whatever you want, Changdol.”

Changmin eased his fingers into Yunho again, feeling him clench around him, and continued to fuck him with deep, deliberate strokes until Yunho’s hips were bucking helplessly. Changmin’s dick was achingly hard, stomach clenching with arousal as he watched Yunho riding his fingers, the lines of his body moving with sinuous, beautiful abandon. It was almost too much for him to take and he pulled his fingers out with a wet squelch.

“Now,” Changmin said, lining up his dick. The head pushed against Yunho’s slick hole, prying it open. “Got to fuck you now.”

“Yeah,” Yunho agreed mindlessly, arching and pushing towards Changmin. They both groaned when Changmin slipped in, swallowed up in tight heat. “Please, Changminnie—”

There’s a filthy wet sound as Changmin slid fully into Yunho, but it’s not as filthy as the moan it punched out of Yunho’s mouth, throaty and desperate. His hand fumbled for Yunho’s dick, lets Yunho fuck up into the circle of his fist. Mouthing Yunho’s neck, he encouraged him with the rhythm of his own thrusts, snapping Yunho’s hips forward with the force of his own body around him. Yunho came in messy white spurts over Changmin’s hand, and Changmin told him how beautiful he was, and how good he felt around Changmin’s dick, and how Changmin was going to fuck him all night just because he could. Yunho’s eyes were glazed over by the time Changmin came inside him and he whimpered when Changmin pulled out, as if unwilling to let him go.

He rolled over to the side and collapsed on the damp sheet to watch Yunho, who was already drifting off to sleep.

Changmin nuzzled closer, closing his eyes to the sound of Yunho’s soft breathing.

 

.

 

Shim Dongsik didn’t make it a habit to visit unannounced, but that was exactly what he did on Wednesday. Changmin only knew of his presence when his secretary stuck her head inside his office without so much as a courtesy knock, fumbled for a bit and informed him that his father was on his way up. Changmin ended the conference call with his Beijing associates as quickly as he could and was in the middle of tidying up his table when Shim Dongsik walked in. He stood up to embrace his father and ask if he wanted a drink.

“There’s no need. I won’t be long. I’m only here to tell you that your mother had arranged dinner with Lee Dowon’s daughter this weekend.” Changmin recalled a plain-looking willowy girl, standing next to a much older, heavyset man at one of his business functions a couple years ago. He still didn’t understand why this warranted a personal visit from his father, but it soon became clear when he added, “She just came back from America and it would be prudent if you’re on your best behaviour.”

 _Oh_. _Oh fuck_.

It’s a struggle to keep a straight face when the only thing he could think about was Yunho’s sleep-rumpled smile, slow sun-warmed kisses. Changmin could feel his throat closing up even as he said, “Father, you don’t mean—”

Shim Dongsik’s eyes narrowed. The glint in his eyes was as sharp as chipped glass. “It’s about time you get married, son.”

 

.

 

**TBC**

 

.

 


End file.
